This year

let’s build our own mythology-
pretend it happened too.

Let’s build pictures of ourselves out of scrapbook
views of men on the beach
or in the gym:
This is the a to z of, see how it’s done
I can pick up this receptionist with a show of these guns.
She’s a lesbian though
and we’re too involved in post production to notice she winks
at the bus driver only.

Let’s take note when tiredness taps us on the spine
and says, go to bed for this eight hours instead of your
two.

Let’s re-write these men’s health DVDs
over an afternoon of crosschecking
WebMD.

Let’s refill boxes of tissues with fresh flannels
and be grown up about masturbating.

Let’s act like the mammals we ought to be
and fuck unconditionally as next door take down their Christmas lights.

Let’s boycott the force and watch french films in France.

Let’s sous-vide our luck and go out all rare.

Let’s get excited for packages at the door,
see cliff faces lit from below by birthday cakes of candles
as you haul out your new protein shake:
your new you;

let’s build our own mythology-
pretend it's happening too.

Let’s try and find Vera Farmiga with this debit card
within one week,
ration our meagre money into a to-do list win streak.

Let’s take feral walks along familiar canals and jump weirs with wet feet.

Let’s spoon up mountains out of the shake,
let’s lose weight,
let’s run off lunch by forgetting four items upstairs on five different occasions,
let’s not worry about waste.

This year let’s build a routine around space in time
and let it be known
that perfect is only an excuse.